


Drink Up Me Hearties, Yo Ho (Ho Ho)

by theinvisibledisaster



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Christmas Angst, F/M, Merry Christmas Saumya!!!, POV Bellamy Blake, Pirate Bellamy, Princess Clarke, but this is where my brain went, i don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-20 21:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: As you can tell by the title, it's Christmas!With pirates!Welcome to my brain.Anyway, Bellamy's a world renowned pirate who accidentally acquires a disgruntled princess on Christmas Eve and has to return her to her castle and get back to his family for Christmas without being caught............. things do not go as planned.





	Drink Up Me Hearties, Yo Ho (Ho Ho)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mywritingiswack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywritingiswack/gifts).



> ...........I don't know, you guys. 
> 
> Why am I like this???
> 
> This is for Bellarke Secret Santa 2018 and I want you to know that I'm taking the vaguest prompt in existence, "idk, surprise me my good binch, ily" to heart here.

Bellamy didn’t mean to kidnap the princess. 

And he definitely didn’t mean to kidnap her on Christmas Eve, when every single member of the Royal Guard was on high alert. 

“You didn’t really think this through, did you?” She asked, leaning back in _his_ chair, on _his_ ship. 

_“Me?”_ He grumbled, “I didn’t do anything! _You_ stowed away! It’s not my fault they think I kidnapped you.”

“Maybe you’re just really bad at being a pirate,” she suggested, and he bristled, but he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of rising to the occasion, so he stayed silent. He leaned back against the door of his cabin and closed his eyes, trying to think of a way out of this without bringing the might of the Royal Guard down on him and his crew.

Technically, they’d acquired the princess on the night _before_ Christmas Eve. They had needed to make a quick exit from Arkadia after Murphy had pickpocketed the wrong noble, and they sped from the port without looking back. It wasn’t until they were halfway across the ocean, leaving Kane’s Kingdom behind them, that Clarke had revealed herself. Or rather, he’d walked into his office to find a rather attractive blonde girl in a pink dress sitting in his chair, twirling her tiara between her fingers. 

Then, of course, Raven had called out to him, announcing that someone had sent a bird with a scroll attached – there were wanted posters up for him, saying he kidnapped the princess. Just his fucking luck. 

Now he needed to return her, so he could make it home in time to spend Christmas with his sister and the rest of his extended family and crew.

Princess Clarke lifted her legs up onto his desk, really making herself at home, and started rummaging through his drawers, but he ignored it. There was nothing of value in them anyway – all his important things were in his private quarters – or so he thought. 

“Oh, The Great Pirate Blake has a family!” She said, her voice annoyingly perky, and he cracked one eye open. She was holding an old photograph, one that had he had been meaning to move for almost two years, but which kept getting buried under more and more papers. It was of a fifteen-year-old Octavia and five other children, ranging from infants to about twelve years old. 

He didn’t say anything, just folded his arms. 

“Wow, I mean, I’d heard you were a bit of a lothario but six kids is… a lot.”

He raised an eyebrow, opening the other eye, “I’d heard you weren’t the judgemental type, so I guess we’re both learning things about each other.”

She harrumphed, “I’m not judging you, I’m just… surprised. I sort of figured that if you slept with women and then abandoned them, you wouldn’t keep track of your kids.”

Bellamy allowed a resigned sigh to slip from his lips, and he moved over to the desk, pushing her legs off so he could sit on it and face her. “I don’t abandon any of the women I sleep with, Princess, they know what they’re getting into before anything happens. And these children aren’t mine.”

She didn’t look convinced, and he realised why when she pointed at Octavia, “You can’t tell me she’s not yours, Blake. She has your bone structure.”

“That’s my sister,” he admitted, “and those are the children I’ve adopted over the years. I find them on my travels, I never mean to, but something about my ship attracts runaways.” He said the last part rather pointedly, but she seemed not to notice it.

She gestured at the smallest child. “That little girl is barely a year old, she can’t possibly have snuck aboard your ship.”

“That’s Hope. I found her.”

“You _found_ her,” Clarke repeated dubiously. 

“Yes.” 

Murphy burst in without knocking, a habit he was annoyingly prolific at, and grinned lazily when he saw the princess. “Raven and Miller want to know if we’re changing course.” He pretended to tut. “Picking up girls again, Blake? I knew you had game, but a princess is truly impressive.”

“Fuck off, John Murphy,” Clarke grumbled, and Bellamy almost choked on thin air. Murphy looked almost as surprised. 

She rolled her eyes, “We went to school together, John. Just because you became a pirate and I became a princess doesn’t mean I don’t remember you.”

Bellamy blinked, turning to him, “I didn’t know you went to school.”

Murphy’s shock didn’t last as long as Bellamy’s and he made a rude gesture at his captain before he looked back at Clarke, “So, what are you doing on our ship, Princess?”

She frowned, “I just, uh… I needed a break.”

“A break?” Bellamy couldn’t help but scoff, “From _what?”_

She glared up at him and he realised he’d said the wrong thing. He tried not to care about the hurt he could see behind her mask of annoyance, but it bothered him that he’d upset her. 

“I wasn’t born to be a princess, Blake,” she tugged at the tie of her dress, “I was a peasant, like Murphy. And then my mother married Kane and suddenly I wasn’t allowed to do the things I wanted. I couldn’t go outside the palace walls for fear that someone would kidnap me, I couldn’t paint because it was unladylike and messy, I couldn’t participate in the politics because that’s not what women do, and I was stuck in the castle like a prisoner. It’s different for my mother – she’s the queen – she gets to travel and study anatomy and stand by Kane’s side while he decides the fate of the kingdom. I’m stuck just looking pretty on a balcony. I’m not designed to be a damsel in distress, Blake. I got bored.”

“Is that all?”

“No, I just…” Clarke faltered, and for the first time since he laid eyes on her, she looked unsure, “I just needed to get away for a day or two.”

He was almost certain she was keeping something from him, but despite his curious nature, he didn’t pry. She was running away, and that was all that mattered. 

He slumped. 

Murphy grinned over at him. He knew that look (he knew all of Bellamy’s looks) and he knew that Clarke’s story had already won him over.

Bellamy exhaled sharply through his nose, “What do you want to do?”

Clarke’s eyes widened, and she sat up straighter, “Wait, really?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes. You get one trip, just for tonight, and then I’m taking you back to your castle tomorrow evening. I don’t need the law coming down on my crew or my family.”

She leapt to her feet and threw her arms around his neck with such force that his large wooden table jerked back a little. Once he got his bearings, he tentatively hugged her back and tried very, very hard not to nuzzle into her hair. In fact, the only thing that stopped him was Murphy’s crooked smile over her shoulder. If Murphy caught him doing that, he’d never hear the end of it. 

So he cleared his throat and extricated himself from her grip. “Where do you wanna go, Princess?”

“I don’t really know,” she pondered it, and he made a face. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ve never been given the _choice_ before!”

After a moment’s deliberation, her eyes fell onto the photograph, which had ended up on the floor when she hugged him. She picked it up and looked at him. 

“Here. I want to go _here.”_

“You don’t wanna go there, Princess, it’s a peasant port,” he protested weakly. 

That seemed to only strengthen her resolve. “But they look _happy_ – your family, I mean – they look like they’re happy.”

That gave him pause, “That photo is two years old, but yeah, I think so. I like to _hope,_ anyway.”

“Would you… would you mind? If I spent Christmas Eve with you and your family?” Her blue eyes were so wide he was in danger of falling into them, and her lips looked like they were on the verge of quivering, which was really quite annoyingly adorable. It took him barely five seconds for his resolve to crumble. 

“Fine,” he relented, “but if you’re coming with us, you better properly meet the crew.”

Clarke beamed and skipped out the door to greet everyone. Bellamy scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m going to regret this.”

Murphy clapped him on the shoulder as he made to follow Clarke. “Yes. Yes you are. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it. Clarke Griffin is going to _ruin you,_ Bellamy Blake.”

“I hate you,” he grumbled, voice muffled by his palms.

Murphy just snorted, and eventually Bellamy exited his office. Clarke was leaning over the railing, looking down into the main deck where his crew was milling about. Most of them were too busy to notice her presence, but he caught Miller’s eye, and Raven was sitting at the bow, watching what was about to unfold with vested interest.

He strode out and called for attention. 

Everyone paused in their tasks, and he watched as they all went slack-jawed at the realisation that they did have the princess – it wasn’t just a rumour. 

“Everyone, this is Princess Clarke,” he announced, and she gave a nervous wave, “she’s going to be coming with us to Dropnavis – just for the night. She’ll stay with Octavia and I, and she’s willing to help, so please do your best to treat her with respect. I know having her here is dangerous, but we have a head start on the Royal Guard and they don’t know where we’re going, so we have the advantage. I’ll return her to her kingdom tomorrow. None of you are in any danger today, and only those of you who wish to help will have to come tomorrow. I won’t make anyone risk their lives on Christmas Eve if they’re not willing.”

The second he finished, they all started yelling.

“But you’ll risk yours–” 

“–for some princess we’ve never met–”

“–thinks she can just stow away–”

“–what kind of stuck-up bitch–”

“ENOUGH!” he roared over the noise, and it faltered until they had all fallen silent again. “Clarke is the princess, but that doesn’t mean she’s responsible for your problems, nor does it mean, Sterling, that she is a _stuck-up bitch_. And if you ever use language like that to describe a woman again, I’ll ram my foot so far up your ass you’ll taste my boots. Any more questions?”

The crew remained mercifully silent, and though he could still feel some minor disapproval, they all seemed at the very least like they wouldn’t sell them out to the king, and that was enough for now. 

He heard Clarke’s whisper to Murphy behind him, “Is he always that intense about women or is it just because I’m here?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Griffin,” Murphy replied, “he’s always like that. He practically raised his sister, and the last kid he adopted was a girl he resc–”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Bellamy grouched, shoving past him and gesturing for Clarke’s attention. She followed him down the steps to where Miller was standing by the mast. “Princess, this is Miller, my first mate; Miller this is Princess Clarke.”

“Just Clarke is fine,” she stuck her hand out to him, smiling, and Miller took it cautiously.

“So, Clarke, you’re a stowaway on a pirate ship.” 

“Yep.” 

_“Why?”_

“Because I wanted a break from being a princess.”

“What he means is,” a female voice asked, and they turned to see Raven approaching, “why a pirate ship?”

“I’m sorry?” Clarke asked, confused. 

Raven tilted her head, “this ship is famous. Every Tom, Dick and Harry could point out _The Chimera’s Revenge_ from fifty miles away. You had to know you were hiding on _our_ ship. So why’d you do it? For all you know, we really are the cold-blooded killers the 12 Kingdoms paint us as.”

Bellamy was curious about that too and he’d been planning on subtly scoping out Clarke’s intentions – he hadn’t even thought to ask point blank, but Raven was nothing if not direct. 

“An old friend of mine, Riley, was on one of the ships you attack last month,” Clarke recalled, “he said you guys boarded the ship but you never laid a hand on any of the crew. You just wanted the rich general. He said you were unusually kind, even though you were frightening. He said you were more like Robin Hood than pirates.”

Bellamy groaned and Murphy cackled with laughter. 

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “Did I say something wrong?”

 _“Robin Hood,”_ Raven, Murphy and Miller said in unison. 

“What?”

Bellamy sighed, “Robin and I cross paths sometimes. I’d go as far as to consider him a friend, in the loosest sense of the word. But we’re not like him. Different business model.”

“How so?”

“Robin robs the rich to feed the poor,” Miller explained, “and we rob the rich and beat oppressors to a pulp. It’s a less family friendly model.”

“A lot less chivalrous,” Raven joined in.

“A lot more cathartic,” Murphy added. 

“Plus, Bellamy doesn’t have a Maid Marian to go home to after all his pillaging,” Miller said, and got a smack to the back of his head for it. 

“I did hear that you went out with her once,” Mbege interjected as he walked past.

“That was a rumour!” Bellamy yelled after him. “We were just friends!”

“Suuuuuuure,” Murphy winked at him, and ducked to narrowly avoid his own whack to the head, only for Raven to stick her leg out and trip him. He landed with a thump on the wooden boards, and Clarke joined in with the laughter at his expense before reaching down to help him up. Murphy put an arm around her shoulder and gave her the closest thing Murphy could give to a hug. “I like this one. I think we should keep her.”

“We can’t keep the princess, Murphy,” Bellamy said patiently, like he was telling a child to put down a stray cat, “now c’mon, we’ve got actual responsibilities to take care of. Let’s let Raven and Miller get back to work.”

“What should I do?” Clarke asked. 

He shrugged, “Whatever the hell you want, Princess.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

As it turned out, what the princess wanted to do was shadow him, so he let her follow him and Murphy around as they checked on the goings on aboard _The Chimera’s Revenge._ She took to it with fascination, always appearing invested in whatever his crew members had to say, and taking great pains to remember their names. 

He supposed that was what made her one of the more likeable princesses in the 12 Kingdoms. From what he’d heard, she was incredibly popular among the peasants, not just because she used to be one, but because she treated them with respect. Unfortunately, this also made her a target for a lot of ridicule among the upper society circles, and two years or so ago, she’d stopped making as many trips out of the palace. At the time everyone had assumed it was because she was becoming more like a born royal, but now Bellamy knew it was because she hadn’t been allowed out. 

He felt bad for her, he really did. 

Her plight reminded him a little of his sister’s, although he certainly didn’t enjoy comparing Clarke to her in any way. He took great pains to remind himself that Clarke wasn’t his sister, in the same breath as he reminded himself that no matter what, she was still _insanely off limits._

Maid Marian was one thing – but _the princess of Arkadia?_

Nope. 

_Unacceptable._

Which was made all the more difficult to deal with when she stuck to his side like molluscs to the hull of a ship, asking questions and seeming genuinely interested in the answers. At some point, she took to calling him by his first name, but he still mostly called her ‘Princess’. He was really trying not to get attached. Trying and failing. It didn’t help that those gorgeous blue eyes were insanely distracting, or that she was seemingly always standing just a little too close.

They were on the deck towards the back of the ship when midnight passed, and she leaned out over the side of ship, teetering dangerously. Bellamy reached out and wrapped a hand around her arm to stop her from falling, and she turned a glowing smile on him. She looked radiant in the light from the full moon directly above them, and he was really beginning to wonder if she was even real.

“It’s Christmas Eve," she breathed.

He only nodded, looking between her tenuous grip on the taffrail and the deep black ocean below. “That it is, Princess.”

“Aren’t you excited?”

“I’d be happier if you would stop trying to throw yourself out of my boat,” he said, tugging her gently until her feet landed back on deck. 

“You’re no fun,” she teased. 

“True,” he leaned against the rigging, “but you’ll have to forgive me for that, because I’m not likely to develop a sense of humour anytime soon.”

“Why not?”

“Because a princess stowed away on my ship and I have to somehow make sure she has an adventure and doesn’t die over the next twenty-four hours so that I can get her back to her castle and evade capture myself.”

“That sounds inconvenient,” a sharp breeze cut across the stern and she shivered, leaning into his side for warmth. “She sounds like a real annoyance.”

“Oh definitely,” he quipped, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “C’mon Princess, let’s get you to bed. It’s freezing, and we won’t arrive at Dropnavis until the early hours of the morning.”

She put up very little protest until he walked her down to his private quarters and unlocked the door. “No, I couldn’t possibly–”

“This isn’t up for debate, Clarke.”

“But where are _you_ going to sleep?”

Murphy, who happened to be passing by on his way to the kitchen, scoffed loudly. “Blake doesn’t sleep.”

Clarke looked perturbed, “Bellamy, you have to get some rest.”

He saw Murphy mouth _“Bellamy?"_ smugly over the top of her head as he backed out of the corridor, and made a mental note to strangle him later. Clarke was still staring up at him with worry creasing her brow, and he crossed his arms to stop himself from using them to hug her. 

“I’ll sleep in my office if it comes to that,” he said, “but I’ll sleep much better knowing that you’re in my quarters with the door locked. It’s not that I don’t trust my men, I do, but you’re a member of the royal family, and we’re pirates. We could ransom you or rob you or a whole number of horrible things. That’s gotta be tempting for some of them.”

“Not you though, right?” She said, and it wasn’t a question. She trusted him. 

“Not me, Princess,” he agreed, “I’m not really the ransoming type.”

He handed her the key and made to leave, but she caught his wrist as he did, and he froze, looking back at her. She was staring down at their hands, a completely different kind of frown on her face, and he was about to ask what was wrong when she whispered, “Thank you.”

“You might regret that thanks; you haven’t met my family yet,” he warned. 

She raised her eyes to his and he was shocked by the solemnity he found there, “Really, Bellamy; thank you for letting me stay. You could easily have turned around the moment you found me and taken me back. Or just dropped me on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean somewhere.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he joked, and the ghost of a smile returned to her lips. He squeezed her hand, “Everyone on this ship needed to get away from something, Princess. Just because you live in a castle doesn’t mean you can’t be a pirate for a day.”

Then he released her and made a beeline for his office before he could do something stupid like ask her what she was running from.

* * *

* * *

* * *

He woke to the smell of the sea and Raven’s fist making loud thuds against the door, “I see her Captain! She’s on the horizon!”

“Home,” Bellamy murmured, feeling the relief flood through his body as he sat up from where he’d fallen asleep over his desk. He stretched his aching muscles and slowly made his way outside. 

Clarke was already there waiting for him, in clothes she must have borrowed from someone onboard, because she was no longer in her pink dress. She’d replaced it with a loose white blouse, tied off around her waist and trousers rather than layers of flowing petticoats. Her tiara was missing, presumably hidden somewhere in his room, and her hands were dirty with a familiar shade of brown; she’d been climbing up the rigging, probably with Murphy. She was leaning against the railing directly in front of his door, watching the people on the deck below, and when he emerged from the cabin she tossed her hair back over her should so she could see him properly. It caught the light as it swished over her back and he couldn’t help the way his eyes followed it. Bellamy made a point of not letting them travel below her face when he spoke to her. 

“Sleep well?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she sounded surprised, “the rocking of the boat is actually kinda perfect. I could get used to living like this.”

“Seems like it’s made for you, Griffin,” Murphy called out from his place halfway up the mast. Bellamy wasn't sure what to do with that. It seemed his entire crew had gotten used to the princess, despite mere hours earlier having wanted to give her up to the Royal Guard to save themselves. 

“We’ll be in port in half an hour!” Raven yelled over from the bow.

Clarke pulled up a spyglass and squinted out into the sea. “I don’t see anything?”

He chucked, “Trust me, if Raven says Dropnavis is there, Dropnavis is there. She built some kind of telescope from scratch a few months ago – it sees things clearer than anything I’ve ever looked through. Half an hour and you get to see a different kingdom, Princess.”

He tried not to think about the way his stomach flipped when her eyes lit up in anticipation.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Clarke wanted to stop at every fish vendor and merchant on the way through the quay, but with the help of both Murphy and Raven, he managed to steer her in the right direction. They started their trek through the forest while the rest of his crew visited their own loved ones or discussed deals with the sellers and thieves in the village. 

Luckily, Clarke didn’t ask any questions about where they were going, or why they had to walk, she just engaged Miller in a conversation so lively he saw Miller actually throw his head back and laugh. He wondered what they were talking about, but he hung back like he always did with Raven, making sure to cover the path behind them to ensure no-one followed. 

Eventually they made it to the edge of his enormous property, and his friends all split off to their own dwellings at each corner of the estate. 

He beckoned Clarke to follow him and the two of them walked slowly toward his house. She asked about the different kinds of plants and trees, and wondered if he raised any cattle, which he explained wasn’t possible because he travelled so much, but maybe when enough of the children were older he’d consider it. He told her about the kids – the youngest, Hope, then Reese and Lovejoy who were both five, Adria who was eight and Aden who was 13. He mentioned Charlotte, his most recent adoption, who he'd found barely six months earlier on a trip to Polis, and that she was a troubled kid, but she was learning to fit in. He explained that Octavia was 17, and that an old friend of Raven’s, Sinclair, watched the house when he was away. 

She told him about her father’s death and he told her about his mother’s. She told him about her best friend Wells, who she’d known since childhood and loved like a brother, and he told her about how he met Miller when he was seven, stealing food from his father’s shop. Miller had offered not to grass him as long as Bellamy showed him how to pickpocket, and they’d been like brothers ever since. Clarke told him stories about Murphy and he told a few choice anecdotes of his own. 

By the time they arrived at “The Bunker”, which was the name affectionately afforded to his dwelling in the forests on the outskirts of the port-town they docked in, they were arguing about old realm politics. They were both so enthralled in conversation that it took them a minute to realise that the house smelt faintly of spices and there was noises of children coming from one of the rooms. He took her hand – _just to guide her through the corridors_ – until they reached the kitchen, and he was more than a little surprised to find Octavia there, cooking. 

She was bent over the counter facing away from him, and he halted in his tracks. 

“You’re early,” Octavia said, not turning around.

“Yeah, we hit complications in Arkadia and had to speed up a little to avoid the guard.”

She snorted. “What, you picking up strays again?”

“Uh… something like that,” Bellamy said, and Octavia finally turned around, a tray of uncooked gingerbread men in her hand, and saw the blonde woman standing awkwardly beside him. Her eyes widened and she put the tray down with a dull thump on the other counter. 

“No.” 

Clarke took a nervous step back, but Bellamy reached out and put a hand on the small of her back, keeping her from leaving. 

“Yes, O–”

“No, Bell, are you kidding me? You actually kidnapped a princess? What if the guards followed you?! What do you think they’ll do to you if they find you?”

“She kidnapped herself, and besides, it’s just for tonight. We’re dropping her off before tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms, “You and your bleeding heart, Bell. You’re gonna get yourself killed and then where will we be?”

“In this house, living comfortably for the rest of your lives,” he said, his tone light. They joked about him dying a lot – it was an undeniable risk in his line of work – but Octavia knew that he had enough money hidden away for them if anything happened to him. He wasn’t going to leave his family in the lurch.

She eyed Clarke up warily, but seemed satisfied with Bellamy’s answers, and turned back to the gingerbread men. 

Bellamy leaned forward on the bench to take some weight off his aching legs. “The real question is; what the hell are you doing in the kitchen?”

“Making cookies,” she said nonchalantly. 

“You don’t cook,” he pointed out. 

Octavia exhaled angrily through her nose as she put the trays in the big coal oven in the corner and turned back to him. “I learned how. It was supposed to be a surprise for you, for Christmas, but you decided to arrive early and ruin it.”

The expression on his face must have been too mushy, because she huffed and tried to stomp away, like she always did when he was being overly affectionate. He didn’t let her go far though, dragging her into a hug which despite her attitude, she reciprocated enthusiastically. 

“I’m so glad to know the kids will still be fed if I die,” he teased and she shoved him away, a reluctant grin on her face. 

“Please, Murphy’s a better cook than you, and he’s teaching Charlotte, so soon we won’t even need you anyway.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you would be so casual about my impending death,” he said, and she shoved him again, rolling her eyes good-naturedly as she turned her attention to Clarke.

“You’re Princess Clarke, right? Haven’t heard anything about you in a while. I figured you’d finally forgotten where you came from, or they shipped you off to princess school somewhere.”

If Bellamy was worried Clarke would stand out in The Bunker, he was proven wrong when she snorted at Octavia’s impertinence and started chatting to her like they were old friends.

“Nah, they just locked the palace doors until I agreed to behave. Except I didn’t, so I haven’t been allowed out without supervision in two years. It’s all very Rapunzel-esque.”

“That blows,” Octavia said.

“Rapunzel?” A little voice spoke up from the doorway, and Bellamy turned to find a mess of light brown hair and green eyes blearily blinking sleep away. When she caught sight of Bellamy, she beamed, _“Bell, Bell, Bell!”_

“Hey Hopey,” he said, kneeling down to her level. She was three now, and she delighted in reminding him of it every time he came home, but today she was more interested in the strange lady standing behind him. 

“Who’s that, Bell?” She said, tugging on his sleeve with one hand and pointing at Clarke with the other. 

“That’s my new friend Clarke,” he said, picking her up so she could sit in the crook of his arm and say hello. Hope became uncharacteristically shy, wrapping her tiny fingers in his curls so she could talk directly into his ear. 

“Is she Rapunzel?” 

“No, but she is a Princess. She’s from another kingdom.” Bellamy threw a side-long glance at Clarke and found that she was watching the exchange with amusement.

“Princess? Is she _your_ princess?”

He could hear the two women giggling and he would have glared at them if Hope’s face wasn’t so full of wonder as she peeked over at Clarke. 

“No, she isn’t mine. She’s just staying for today. Then she has to go home so she can spend Christmas with her family.”

“Oh,” Hope pouted, then she caught Clarke’s eye and quickly turned back, burying her face in his cheek. When her courage returned, she mumbled, “does she play Knights and Bandits?” 

“I don’t know,” he stage-whispered back, “why don’t you ask her?”

She shook her head, sucking her thumb, and he shifted her in his arms so she was in front of his face, adopting a high-pitched voice, “Princess Clarke, do you like playing Knights and Bandits?” Which sent Hope into peals of giggles, and made Clarke smile widely. 

“I do! I haven’t played in a while though, so you’ll have to remind me how,” she said kindly. 

“Okay,” Hope said, finding her voice now that Clarke had spoken directly to her, “do you want to play now?”

“Sure thing, kid,” she said, and Bellamy put the little girl down on the floor so she could run over to Clarke and tug her away down the hall. She glanced back over her shoulder at him, “Is this okay?”

He only nodded, waving her away with an easy smile. When he returned his attention to the kitchen, Octavia was staring at him. He started moving around, getting ready to make dinner, when he realised she was still just observing him silently. 

_“What?”_

“You like her.”

He spluttered, “I barely know her.”

“But _you like her,_ ” Octavia said again. 

He threw a cherry tomato at her, “How about instead of speculating about my love-life, you make yourself useful and chop those vegetables?”

* * *

* * *

* * *

There was a barn at the bottom of his garden, right where the line of his property ran into the forest, and in it were multiple tables of different shapes and sizes – some that he’d made and some that he’d bought. He’d done the building up a long time ago, and it now stood proud as a structure of its own – not quite a house, not quite shoddy enough to be just a barn anymore. 

It had become a regular kind of community activity for events to be held in the barn, and the locals all knew it was owned by pirates, but they didn’t care. The way they saw it, the pirates were the only people who cared about the peasants in their area, and they welcomed them with open arms. 

Bellamy’s actual house, however, was two miles away from the barn, and no villager had yet ventured far enough into the forest to stumble across it. He even had a decoy cottage set up so people might see it and be warned off the property. He felt safe hosting at the barn, because even if people who were willing to bring the guards or knights with them came to visit, he could lead them away from where he actually lived. It was always a wild celebration too – initially it had just been his family and his crew, and then the portside village had begun attending, and now all the neighbouring villages had an open invitation to every gathering he held.

Christmas Eve was no exception, especially now that they had a princess staying the night. 

While Clarke spent the morning playing with Hope and being introduced to the other children, Raven offered to take Charlotte and Octavia down to one of the mountain villages to pick up a dress. Apparently, O's suitor would be attending, and she wanted to look pretty in case he asked her to dance, and Charlotte just wanted a nice dress. Bellamy mock-complained as they left, begging them to stay and help, but he was secretly glad he had some time to himself. 

Which didn’t last long because Murphy and Miller dropped in around lunchtime, partially to help set up for the evening, but mostly to roast him. 

They started off nice, or at the very least _subtle,_ but by the time Murphy was through baking the third apple pie, and Miller had peeled his 300th potato, the gloves were really off. 

“I can’t believe you’ve found your perfect woman and she’s a _princess_ ,” Miller grumbled, like the idea was offensive to him, personally. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Murphy agreed, “the man who once said, _‘all royals are stuck up assholes with god complexes ruining the lives of others,’_ finds his match in an Arkadian royal. You couldn’t make this shit up.”

“Fuck off, both of you,” Bellamy snapped, just in time for Clarke and all the children to come running into the kitchen. 

“Uncle Murphy!” Hope squealed, letting go of Clarke’s hand so she could waddle over and attach herself to Murphy’s leg.

“Oh and I’m just chopped liver am I?” Miller pretended to gripe, just as Reese and Lovejoy both launches themselves at him, tackling him to the floor. 

Adria and Aden were the older of the five, so they were less outwardly enthusiastic about seeing their uncles. Aden seemed to be deep in conversation with Clarke, but Adria swanned in and gave Bellamy a brief hug.

“Hi Uncle Murphy, hi Uncle Miller,” she said, stealing one of Murphy’s hand-made mince pies from the tray before moving towards the hallway, presumably off to her room for some peace and quiet. She’d always been a serious child, but at eight-years-old it seemed like she was hitting her antisocial teenage years early.

“In some kingdoms, thieves get their hands cut off, y’know!” Murphy yelled after her, but she just smiled serenely and bit into the pastry. Bellamy hid his smile behind his hand.

He looked to Clarke, “Having fun?”

She leaned on the counter and nabbed a mince pie to discreetly pass off to Aden before she snatched one of her own, “Yeah. Your kids are amazing. You’ve done such an amazing thing, Bellamy, rescuing them and raising them here.”

Bellamy turned to glare at Murphy, but Clarke caught the expression and shook her head.

“Murphy didn’t tell me anything, Aden did. He told me all about the insane conclave he was supposed to involved in over in Polis, and how you saved him from the contestant trafficking boats. He also told me about the others. Not many people would just adopt kids in trouble, Bellamy, let alone a pirate, and yet you've managed to make all these children feel at home. Aden was telling me how lucky he feels, that you found him and not someone else.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, ruffling Aden’s hair, “you’re a good kid.”

Aden surprised him by giving him a hug, and he reciprocated warmly. He refused to be the kind of guy who withheld affection from teenage boys because it wasn’t ‘manly’. Fuck that. He was going to hug his family as much as he damn well pleased.

When Aden pulled away, he went up to Clarke and hug her briefly too. She blinked down at him, “What was that for?”

“You listened,” he said simply, before scurrying off to the back garden where he would undoubtedly be found later building birdhouses out of old tree-stumps - his latest obsession.

Murphy and Miller were suitably distracted with the other three kids for Bellamy to sidle up next to Clarke, “So how’s your escape going? Is it as exciting as you thought it’d be?”

“Yeah, it is.” She smiled, but there was a sadness behind it – there was a sadness behind all her smiles – and he wished he could wipe it away.

“Was babysitting my adopted kids the kind of high-flying adventure you were expecting when you boarded the most famous pirate ship in the 12 Kingdoms, Princess?

She laughed lightly, “Not exactly.”

She didn’t elaborate, and he was about to press the issue when he heard a familiar cackle of laughter from over by the cooling apple pies, and he glanced up to see Murphy with a wicked gleam in his eye. Hope was beaming obliviously in his lap, and Bellamy had a feeling that whatever Murphy’s sudden self-satisfaction was, it had to do with something Hope had let slip without realising.

* * *

* * *

* * *

They all walked down to The Barn together to get it set up, and when they arrived, Raven, Octavia and Charlotte were already there. Octavia was in a dark purple dress and Charlotte was in light blue, and Raven was still in her ship clothes, keeping an eye on the two girls while they chased each other around the room.

Murphy was in charge of food, and he got to work distributing it to all the tables and making unreasonably large bowls of punch.

Raven was in charge of the lights and the music, so she started ordering Miller and the children around – Miller lighting lanterns and the children setting up the instruments on the stage. 

Bellamy helped wherever he could, and by the time people started arriving, everything was pretty much perfect. He greeted people as they came through the door, until the whole place was filled to the brim with people talking and eating and having a good time. Jasper, Monty and Macallan, three local musicians that were on friendly terms with him and his crew took to the stage and started playing upbeat music. 

He did catch Octavia and Adria trying to sneak mistletoe in every crevice, but aside from that, things were going pretty smoothly. He stood back against the wall to watch as people started dragging each other to the dance floor. 

“You’re a good team,” Clarke said quietly, and he almost jumped, because he hadn’t heard her come up next to him. 

“Like I said, Princess, everyone on my crew has something they’re running from. We work so well together because we have that in common.”

“Raven’s running from her ex-boyfriend, and from a society that doesn’t think a woman can be an engineer, Murphy’s running from his past, Miller’s running because he loves you and because he wanted to get out of his small town, Sterling’s running from his brother, Mbege’s running from slavery,” Clarke listed off, and he was impressed that she managed to get to know everyone so well in the short time she’d spent with them. She frowned up at him, “You’re the captain, which means you have more reason to run than anyone. So what are you running from, Bellamy?”

He tilted his head at her, “What are _you_ running from, Princess?”

She fell silent, and then Octavia was running up to them and dragging them both by the hands towards the front of The Barn. 

“I thought Bellamy would be less depressing with you here, but you’re both as bad as each other,” she grumbled, “now dance. You’re bumming me out.”

She yanked their hands until they were standing together, and made some kind of subtle move at Jasper, who winked. The cheery song they had been playing came to an end and suddenly a slow, romantic ballad filled the room. Bellamy felt an embarrassed blush rise in his cheeks and moved to kill his baby sister, but before he could she vanished back into the crowd. 

He groaned. “Regret coming here yet?”

Clarke just smiled serenely as they started waltzing, leaning in close so she could be heard over the music. “Are you kidding? This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“You don’t get out enough,” he joked, but she just sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. 

“No.” She murmured, her breath fanning out over his neck. “I don’t.”

He felt a slight ache in his chest and moved the hand on her waist so that his arm was encircling it, pulling her tight against him. She squeezed his hand as they danced, more of a slow swaying than actual waltzing anymore. 

“You don’t go to balls, Princess? I find that hard to believe,” he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

“I do, but I always end up dancing with Wells. I’m not good at behaving the way I’m expected to at things like that. But here… here no-one expects anyone to be a certain way. You can all just be what you are.”

“Yeah, you can,” he said, ducking to rest his cheek on the crown of her head. “What do you wanna be, Princess?”

She turned her face into his collarbone, hiding her expression, “I just want to… _be.”_

As the song changed, Murphy appeared at their elbows and demanded a dance with Clarke, which she agreed to. Bellamy reluctantly let go of her and moved back towards the side of the room, but he was intercepted by Raven. 

“Oh no you don’t, Blake,” she said, “and don’t even think about stepping on my toes either. I think we should have a talk.”

“Great,” he said unenthusiastically, and put his hands on her hips. She wrapped her hands around his neck as they moved, and after a quiet moment, she flicked his chin sharply. “Ow, what was that for?!”

“You like the princess.”

He shrugged in a way he hoped was non-committal. 

Raven pinched his ear. “You danced with her. You don’t dance with anyone.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t count and you know it,” Raven said, and he averted his eyes. “You _like_ her, Blake. You like her so much you haven’t even noticed that Octavia and Atom have been dancing for the last ten minutes.”

Bellamy’s head jerked up to find his sister and Raven flicked his chin again. 

“Just admit it.”

He rubbed his now slightly reddened chin and just gave in. “So, I like her. What does that change? Nothing. She’s still going home in a few hours, she’s still a princess, and I’m a pirate. A pirate with the extra baggage of a sister and six kids to raise. It doesn’t matter that I like her. It wouldn’t work, even if she considered it, which she wouldn’t.”

“Of course she would, idiot, she likes you too,” Raven stepped on his foot in a way he was pretty sure was deliberate. 

Bellamy glanced over her shoulder at Clarke, who was dancing with Murphy and chatting to Miller and Bryan while they swayed beside her. She was still in the ship clothes she’d borrowed and she didn’t look anything like an Arkadian princess – she looked like she belonged at home in the villages of Dropnavis, or on the deck of a ship. She threw her head back in a laugh at something Miller said, and he felt his heart fall a little more. God, he was a sap. “Like I said, even if she did… it’s never gonna happen.”

When he looked back at Raven, her expression was something like pity. “Would it really be so bad, Blake?”

“What?”

“Being happy.”

He shifted uncomfortably but he didn’t say anything. 

“You’ve saved enough kids to make up for the piracy, Captain. Hell, even your brand of piracy is barely enough to make you a bad person. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself. You’re a frustratingly good man, Bellamy, and you deserve to be happy. I think, if you give it time, you and Clarke can make each other happy.”

“We barely know each other,” he tried again, but Raven was shaking her head before he even finished the sentence. 

“I’m not saying you’re the loves of each other’s lives, I’m just saying that in the eighteen hours since she stowed away, you’ve seemed a lot more… relaxed. Which is confusing for the rest of us, because you don’t relax. I didn’t even know it was possible for you.”

“Fuck off.”

She grinned, “I’m serious. Octavia was worried. When we went dress shopping this afternoon, she asked me if you’d been sick. She also said that she thinks Clarke is good for you.”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “Everyone seems to.”

Raven grabbed his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her properly when she said, _“Charlotte_ likes her.”

“What?” That couldn’t be right. Charlotte didn’t like anyone except Bellamy. She barely tolerated Octavia and the other children after six months of living under the same roof, let alone liking someone upon a first meeting. 

“Look, you know I don’t believe in fate, but seriously, if the universe actually sent down signs, this would be a big one. Look at her. She’s not a stuck-up royal, she’s one of us – she’s a delinquent.”

Bellamy flicked his eyes back up to Clarke, only to find her over by one of the punch bowls with Octavia, Charlotte and Aden. They were deep in conversation about something serious and after a moment, Charlotte flung her arms around her. Clarke hugged her right back, whispering something in her ear. Octavia glanced over, catching Bellamy’s eye, and he recognised that look; it was her _“I’m gonna meddle”_ look. She had the same one with Gina, back when he thought he might be able to settle down with her. Then Gina had found out about the piracy and wanted nothing to do with him. At least Clarke knew he was a pirate the second she met him. 

Before he could really work out what that meant, Murphy sidled up to them, “I hate to interrupt your moony-eyed staring, but I think it’s time to take the princess home. If we leave it any later, it’ll be Christmas day by the time we get there, and then we’re never getting in the palace walls.”

“Shit.”

The three of them moved towards where Clarke was standing, hauling Miller away from his boyfriend as they did. She looked up as they appeared. 

“Time to go?” She asked, looking crestfallen.

“Sorry Princess,” Bellamy said.

“Maybe you could come back next year?” Charlotte asked shyly.

Clarke looked, if possible, even more upset, “Yeah. Maybe.”

Bellamy stepped closer to her so he could guide her back to the ship, but he’d barely put his hand on the small of her back before he was stopped by his brat of a little sister. 

“Oh look,” Octavia said evilly, pointing at the rafters directly above them, “mistletoe.” 

“We don’t have to,” he said apologetically, feeling more awkward than he felt he ought to. He suddenly felt very close to Clarke, her face merely inches from his own and his hand on her back, and she didn’t look like she was shying away from him. If anything, she was leaning closer, her hair practically glittering in the light from the lanterns around them. It was like a dream, which is why he almost didn’t believe it when she spoke.

“You’re a pirate; you don’t _have_ to do anything,” she murmured, “but you’re still gonna kiss me, right?”

He couldn’t say no to a question like that, so he leaned in and brushed his lips to hers. When she pushed up on her toes to kiss him back, he funnelled all of his self-control into his lips, trying to keep it chaste, but apparently it wasn’t up to him. Clarke wound her hands into his hair and tugged him closer, sighing into his mouth, and that was what broke him. He wrapped both of his arms around her and hunched just enough to kiss her properly, lips moving against hers in a way that was _just_ acceptable enough for a public gathering. 

Just. 

When they broke apart, Clarke’s chest was heaving against his, and he felt like he was floating. He pressed his forehead to hers and got his breath back for a moment, revelling in the fact that he had just kissed the princess, and she _liked it._

“Well,” Raven said, to break the silence.

“Yep.” Miller agreed.

“Let’s go bitches,” Murphy called out, and Bellamy could hear his smug grin without even looking up. He let go of Clarke and pulled back, and if he didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the look on her face for one of disappointment as he left her personal space. 

“Don’t swear in front of my children, Murphy,” he called back, then turned to Octavia, “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow morning. It’s a round trip – drop off the princess and get back in time to have breakfast with you guys. Keep an eye on your siblings and don’t–”

 _“–do anything you wouldn’t do,_ I know Bell.” She hugged him before turning to Clarke, “It was nice meeting you. I hope you get home okay. Don’t be a stranger.”

Clarke just smiled sadly, and hugged every one of his kids as they left, except Hope, who was sleeping. He did not look forward to explaining Clarke’s absence to her the next day, but he could worry about that later.

It was a quiet, somewhat uncomfortable walk back to the ship. He didn’t really know how to act with Clarke now that they’d kissed, and she seemed equally unsure, not to mention the fact that she was sad to be leaving. Raven and Miller were staying respectfully silent, and even Murphy wasn’t talking, just kicking the leaves around his feet as they walked.

* * *

* * *

* * *

They didn't take _The Chimera’s Revenge_ , because it was too noticeable. Instead, they opted for one of their smaller ships, _Orpheus,_ and it was just the four of them running the ship, so it took a lot more effort than with a whole crew, but they’d done it before. 

Clarke offered to help, and Murphy had her climb up the rigging to assist him with something. Raven set a course and they worked together to launch the ship from port, and eventually Murphy climbed down, but Clarke was still up in the crow’s nest, facing the village as it faded away.

Bellamy stood at the helm as they forged towards an ever-darkening sky as the evening enveloped them. The ocean followed suit, becoming blacker until there was barely a line distinguishing the water from the horizon, and Bellamy was thankful for the invention of lanterns and oil lamps. 

They’d been travelling for an hour, with about five more left to endure, when Miller clapped him on the back. “I got this. Go talk to her, Captain.”

Bellamy relinquished his hold on the wheel to his first mate and climbed up the mast to sit next to Clarke, who was curled up on one side of it against the wooden panelling of the crow’s nest to escape the wind. He propped himself up next to her, his legs on the other side of the mast but his shoulders nearly touching hers.

“You don’t have to go home, Princess,” he said. “You could just… leave. You could stay with me, or I could drop you somewhere else, or take you back to Dropnavis. You don’t always have to do what’s expected of you.”

She scoffed, the kind of laugh weighted down with misery. “Yes I do.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, sincere. “I know how that feels. Octavia’s dad was… not a good man. I spent most of what should have been my childhood protecting her and my mom. Then, when he left, I had to take care of my mom. When she died, I was left with a thirteen-year-old sister to raise, no money and no prospects because I hadn’t learned any trades. I took to stealing food to survive.”

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry,” she reached over to slip her hand into his. “How did you go from being a downtrodden kid with too many responsibilities to a world-famous pirate captain? Can’t have been easy.”

“Bizarrely, it kinda was. I got a job on a ship as a glorified cabin boy. Worked on behalf of the Azgedan empire – it was the only place offering a job for someone like me – but it turned out that the ship I was on was destined for the bottom of the ocean. The prince was on our ship and the queen wanted him taken out. She sent a militia to sink us, but luckily, they turned up at the same time as a pirate ship. There was a battle, and eventually the prince ended up with the militia ship and I ended up with the pirates.”

“What happened to the prince?” 

“Oh, he became a pirate himself. We still run into each other every now and again – we’re quite good friends, all things considered.”

“The _things_ being that you’re both pirates after the same loot?” Clarke asked, her smile lopsided in a way that made his head spin. “Go on then, what happened on the pirate ship?”

He nodded, “The captain of that ship, Pike, was a vindictive bastard, but for the next two years he taught me everything I knew. He wanted to retire with his riches, and when he did, he left me in charge. He used to hire new crews for every job but I didn’t wanna do that, I wanted people I could trust. First thing I did was come home and pick up Miller. We hired a small crew and after a month or two we stumbled across Murphy. He was pickpocketing in Arkadia. At some point we picked up Raven from a small town in Skaiterra, and after that everything just sort of… fell together.”

“When did you start adopting children?”

He chuckled, “Right around the time I took over the ship. Adria was the first; she had been on Pike’s ship since she was little – her father was a pirate who had died before I arrived – Pike didn’t know what to do with her, so she stuck with me. When I took over, I dropped her at home with Octavia, and I guess it started a trend.”

“When did you find Hope?” 

“Three years ago. We got into a scrap with another pirate ship run by some guy called McCreary. Apparently Diyoza used to be the captain, but while she was giving birth, he staged a mutiny.”

“Bastard.”

“We happened upon them and Diyoza’s first mate, Shaw, helped sneak her over to us. We shot McCreary’s ship down and got away as fast as we could. But Diyoza’s labour hadn’t been…” he paused. “She died before we could make it back to a port. Shaw promised to give her a respectful burial, and also swore he was done with piracy. But Hope had nowhere to go.”

“So you took her.”

“So I took her.”

“That was noble of you, Captain Blake,” she said warmly. 

He shrugged, “Children don’t get to choose not to suffer. I’d rather not be part of the problem.”

"So you're not running away from anything - you're running to the people who need somewhere to go." She realised. "People like you used to be."

They sat there for a moment in comfortable silence, her fingers slotted between his, and it felt somehow right, like this was where they were meant to be. He’d never opened up like that to anyone before, but something about her just made him want to spill his secrets and listen to hers. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms. 

“I’m engaged.” Clarke blurted out. 

He blinked.

“What?”

She winced and looked up at him, brow furrowed, “My mom told me, yesterday. I’m to be married off to the queen of Polis, and if I refuse, I have to marry Wells. They actually believed they were giving me a choice by offering those two options – the illusion of free will. _I hate them._ They want me married by this time next year, to ensure the image of a whole, unthreatening royal family without their rebel daughter. Apparently they were supposed to announce it today – part of the Christmas Eve celebrations. This is everything my father fought against, and my mom is just _fine_ with selling me off to the highest bidder.”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he murmured, “you shouldn’t have to feel like an object to be bartered.”

“I’m engaged and I’ve never even met her.” She sounded heartbroken and lost, and he knew more than anyone how that felt - like being stuck at sea with no idea which way was North. 

“Why not marry Wells? He’ll take care of you, right?”

“He’s like a brother to me, I can’t love him like that, I can’t sleep in his bed at night, I can’t bear his children, it would be… it wouldn’t be _right.”_

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to marry her,” she said simply, “because it’s what I have to do.”

Bellamy finally did what he should have done twenty minutes before and draped his arm around her, pulling her close. He wished he could wipe away her worries with a flick of his sword, but it wasn’t that easy this time. This time it was all politics, and he couldn’t just steal from her parents to fix it. Clarke was a princess and she was bound by her responsibilities. 

“You sure you don’t just want me to drop you off somewhere?” He joked. 

She just sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

* * *

* * *

* * *

The hours passed far too quickly. After a while, he had coaxed her down to the deck, where the five of them played cards and shared some of Jasper’s moonshine that Murphy had brought from the party. When they reached the port, he grabbed a cloak from his cabin and handed it to Clarke. She wasn’t dressed like a princess anymore but her face was still recognisable, even in the low light. 

“Okay, you three stay here,” he ordered his friends, “keep the ship prepared. I might need to make a quick exit, and if I do, I want you safely on the boat and ready to leave.”

Miller and Raven each hugged Clarke and then Murphy brushed past her to stand on solid ground, surprising everyone. 

“Don’t argue with me, Captain, I know this town better than you.” 

Bellamy threw his eyes to the heavens. “Fine. But if things get sketchy, I want you out first. If it comes to it, run and don’t look back. Use those cockroach instincts of yours.”

He grinned and started making his way through the darkness, giving Clarke and Bellamy no choice but to follow. They waved back to the ship as they left, knowing that their friends could see them even if they were swathed in shadow; Raven was good like that. 

Murphy knew a way into the castle walls without being spotted – of course he did – and Clarke knew the palace grounds once they were through, so all in all, it was a surprisingly easy journey up to Clarke’s room, which was in a small turret on the fifth floor. They snuck through the hallways, not coming in contact with a single guard or servant the whole way up. In fact, it wasn’t until they reached the fifth floor that they ran into trouble. 

They heard the marching of metal boots and Bellamy dragged Clarke behind a tapestry, keeping close to her so the material didn’t move. He had seen Murphy move in the opposite direction and he prayed that he’d found somewhere to hide.

The boots clanged as they got closer, and Clarke’s grip on his shirt tightened. 

The knights were level with the tapestry. 

He held his breath.

They passed, and the noise echoed away down the corridor. Clarke slumped against his chest, hands still curled into the material with a grip like steel. “Maybe you should go now. It’s only a few feet to my room, I can get there on my own.”

“Not a chance, Princess.”

She smiled up at him and he managed half of one back. When they emerged from behind the tapestry, Murphy was already standing in the hall.

“Now that you’re done arguing over who gets to be more noble, should we return the princess to her room?”

“Shut up Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled. 

Clarke led them down the corridor and up a small spiral staircase to a door, marked in blue with gold leaf along the hinges. 

“Murphy, keep watch,” she commanded, right before she grabbed Bellamy’s wrist and dragged him into the room, closing the door firmly behind them. 

She backed up, tugging him with her, until they reached a wall. He leaned an arm beside her head, trying to keep a little distance between them, but she just placed his other hand on her waist, staring up at him with something like defiance. 

Somewhere behind him, a clock chimed. 

“It’s midnight,” Clarke whispered. “Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Princess.”

“Bellamy?” Her voice was soft, barely audible even in the silence. 

He swallowed, looking down at her big blue eyes and trying not to get lost in them. He had to remember his way out of here, or he’d never leave. “Yeah?”

“There’s no mistletoe in here,” she pulled something from beneath her cloak; a sprig of mistletoe, “but I stole some from The Barn.”

He glanced between the leaves and her face, adopting a teasing tone to drown out his rapidly thumping heart. “Stole it, huh? You a thief now, Princess?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Pirate.”

“As you wish,” he murmured, and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. She responded immediately, hands finding his curls and her tongue meeting his, sending sparks through them both. He could stay there forever, kissing her until neither of them could breathe, but he had to leave. When he pulled away, her lips chased his, and he tried backing away but she went with him, until he was sitting on the end of her bed and she was in his lap while he trailed kisses down her neck. She made a small noise of encouragement and he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, panting heavily. “I’ve got to go.”

“I know,” she rested her lips on his forehead, running her fingers through his hair. “I wish you didn’t.”

“You’ve gotta let me up, Princess,” he mumbled, shifting his head up so he could nibble at her earlobe. 

“Maybe I’ll just keep you here, hide you in my room,” she teased, but she was already climbing off him. They stayed there a minute, frozen in each other's gazes, until a noise startled them out of it, and she walked him back to the door. 

“I’ll write to you,” he suggested, “and if you ever need to escape again, even just for an hour or two… I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Bellamy.”

“I mean it, Clarke,” he said, and her eyes widened at his use of her name, “you need me, I’ll come running.”

And then he was gone, Murphy on his heels, just barely registering the quiet utterance of, _“Merry Christmas”_ through her door.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Of course, things couldn’t really be that easy. 

They were nearly out of the castle, just about into the servant’s quarters, when disaster struck. The knights seemed to have multiplied, and they started having to hide every hundred feet or so through the corridors. But it wasn’t until Murphy was almost through the secret side door that one of the knights finally stumbled across them.

“Murphy, run!” Bellamy ordered, and he didn’t need to be told twice, vanishing before the knight even realised he was there. 

The guard swung his sword, calling for backup, and the unmistakable clatter of armour started approaching from all sides as Bellamy attempted to hold them off. He got a few good swings in, even got a hand on his pistol, but one of them sent the butt of his dagger directly into his head, and he stumbled, the world getting hazy. 

He could hear them above him as his vision slowly dipped into nothingness.

_“Tell the queen we’ve found the scoundrel that kidnapped her daughter. Captain Blake himself.”_

_“Why would he come back here? He must know the whole kingdom is on high alert.”_

_“Presumably to leave a ransom. I’ll bet you anything he’s holding her somewhere close by.”_

_“Throw him in a holding cell. Tomorrow morning we’ll have a Christmas hanging.”_

Then there was only the dark.

* * *

* * *

* * *

When he came to, there was something over his head, obscuring his vision. He was on his knees with his hands bound behind his back, and he caught glimpses of the elaborate tiles below him as his brain caught up to his eyes. 

_Ah._

He’d been captured. 

That would be why his head felt like it had been hit with a cannonball. 

Someone was speaking. 

_“…the ruffian himself was captured last night trying to sneak into the castle to deposit a ransom note,”_ that was King Marcus. Bellamy was in the King’s court, and he was about to die. He hoped that Murphy got back to the ship in time. 

_Well,_ he managed to think blearily, _at least Octavia will be taken care of._

Then the hood was removed and he squinted, blinking in an attempt to scatter the sunlight from his vision.

Kane and the queen were on their thrones before him with the third, smaller seat notably empty. He could hear a crowd milling behind him; a rather large one, if his ears weren’t mistaken. The king’s advisor, Jaha, was sitting off to the side, his son – Wells – with him, and both of them looking at Bellamy with murder in their eyes. He couldn’t honestly blame them. 

“Where is my daughter?” Abby asked him, her voice steady but with a note of something hysterical underneath. 

Bellamy said nothing.

“Where are you holding her?”

Still, he didn’t speak. 

Kane held up a hand, “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Captain Blake?”

He stared up at them defiantly. “No.”

“Very well,” Kane said, “then by the word of the king, I sentence you to dea–”

“Don’t you dare!” A familiar voice cut through the air, and the crowd gasped. He groaned, trying to think of a way to stop her from talking, but Clarke was on the warpath now. “Don’t you touch a hair on his head, Marcus!”

“Clarke!?” Kane and Abby both rose to their feet, looking over Bellamy’s shoulder. With a great deal of effort, he managed to tilt his head to see Clarke in a blue dress, her hair in neat waves and her shoulders set defiantly. 

“Captain Blake did nothing to me,” she announced, “he only returned me home.”

The crowd went wild, screaming and cheering and stomping their feet at the revelation, and Bellamy tried to catch Clarke’s eye, but hers were locked on her mother and step-father. Jaha stepped forward, attempting to create order. “You have grown fond of your kidnapper, it’s okay, we hear of such things happening–”

“Captain Blake did not kidnap me.” She said. 

“Princess, don’t,” he called out, and she bristled, even as her parents looked confusedly between them. “Just let them execute me, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, you’ve done nothing wrong!” She stormed over to him. 

“I’ve done plenty,” he muttered. 

She fell to her knees in front of him and held his face in her hands. “You’re not allowed to leave me like that, Bellamy. I know you think you deserve it, but you don’t.”

“Princess–”

“I know what you’re going to say and I don’t care. They can padlock my door and make me marry Wells, and never let me move without an armed militia at all times and I don’t care. You’re not dying for me, Bellamy, I won’t let you.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoyingly stubborn?” He asked, and she grinned. 

She looked over at her parents, her palms still pressed against Bellamy’s cheeks as she spoke. “I left. I didn’t want to be married off to a woman I’ve never met for the sake of the kingdom or my reputation, so I ran away. Bellamy kept me safe and he brought me home. He did nothing wrong.”

A hush ran through the crowd and Kane managed to look a little sheepish. 

“We were going to introduce you to her first,” he said weakly, and Bellamy growled. He couldn’t help it; it made him angry that her parents were so cavalier about something that would affect her for the rest of her life. Even if Kane wasn’t her father by birth, he still had the responsibilities of one. Kane faltered, “You’re right, Clarke, we should have given you more of a warning.”

“You should have given her more of a _choice,_ ” Bellamy snapped. 

Abby turned a sharp glare on him. “Who are you to pass judgement on us?! You’re nothing more than a pirate.”

 _“Yes he is,_ ” Clarke shouted, at the same time as Bellamy said;

 _“You’re right._ ” Clarke’s head whipped back around to him and she opened her mouth as if to argue, but he kept going, “I’m just a pirate. But I would never treat my children the way you’ve treated Clarke.”

“How _dare–”_

“He’s right,” Wells yelled, standing up and stepping in front of his father. He moved to stand behind Clarke, his hand on her shoulder. “She should be able to marry who she wishes. We don’t want to marry each other, and she doesn’t want to marry this woman she’s never met. It’s unfair.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed, and Bellamy somehow knew exactly what she was going to say before she said it. “Don’t–”

“If you let Bellamy go, I’ll marry who you want.”

“Dammit, Clarke, don’t be stupid,” he groaned.

She ignored him, “I mean it. If you leave Captain Blake alone, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll stop fighting it, I’ll be the perfect princess you expect me to be. I’ll get married, I won’t leave the castle, I won’t stir up trouble, I’ll just… _I’ll do anything,_ just please _don’t kill him.”_

“Clarke, you’re being ridiculous,” he pleaded, “I’m not worth it, don’t throw your life away for me, please. I can’t have that on my conscience, I just can’t.”

“Well I can’t have your death on mine,” she snapped back, her eyes wet with unshed tears, and he felt all the fight go out of him. He couldn’t deny the princess when she was holding back tears meant for him. She got to her feet and backed away from him, looking to the King and Queen for their answer. 

Bellamy felt something slice through the ties at his wrists. He glanced up to see Wells at his side, dagger in hand. “Don’t let her do this, Captain Blake.”

He nodded, rubbing his wrists as he got to his feet, pitching forward slightly when the world spun. Wells managed to catch him just before he stumbled, and with his help, they moved towards the princess. 

“Clarke, please,” he begged, and she flinched at his tone. “You’ve got to let this happen, so you can live the life you want.”

“I’ll be alive knowing you’ve left your family behind,” she said, quiet enough that the crowd couldn’t hear, but judging by their surprised expressions, Abby, Kane and Jaha could. Bellamy lurched forward again and this time he caught his own weight, reaching for Clarke’s waist. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Your sister, and your children, they’ll have to grow up alone.”

“They won’t be alone, they’ll have Murphy and Miller and Raven. It’ll be alright, Princess,” he swiped the tear away with his thumb, while his other hand made a similar motion along her ribs, stroking her soothingly. “I’m a pirate. I always knew this was in the cards for me.”

“That’s bullshit. It’s not fair,” she sobbed, burying her face in the crook of his neck while she cried. He hugged her to him, feeling her tears slide down his chest and dampen his shirt. If these were his last moments on Earth, he decided it could be far worse.

 _“Leave them both alone,”_ a voice in the crowd called. Bellamy could have sworn he knew that voice.

 _“Yeah!”_ A few people joined in. 

_“Let them be!”_ An elderly woman called out. 

_“They’ve done nothing wrong!”_

_“It’s Christmas!”_

_“Leave them alone!”_

The crowd was in uproar now, and Kane shot his wife a stern look before addressing them with a placating air. 

“There will be no execution today. Captain Blake will be returned to his ship and sent home to his family. Provided he breaks no laws before he leaves port,” he stared rather pointedly at him, but Bellamy just wrapped Clarke more securely in his arms, so Kane turned back to the people, “he will be given a full pardon for his actions.”

“What about the princess?” The first voice called out again, and this time Clarke recognised it too. 

“Is that Murphy?” She whispered. 

_“Yep._ Don’t question it,” Bellamy grinned, kissing her temple, and she shifted in his arms so that her back was against his chest and the two of them could look out over the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Murphy – up the front in the middle, where he was born to be – but he also noticed Raven in the stalls to the left, and Miller towards the back.

“The princess will not be required to marry anyone she does not wish to.” Kane said. 

A massive cheer went up, shaking the walls. The people were pleased, and some of them started chanting Christmas hymns, until soon the entire city was ringing with joyous noise. Bellamy felt a little dazed, and Clarke seemed to be feeling the same way; it was all a little surreal. He didn’t think things could get weirder.

_Then it got weirder._

Kane stepped over to mutter, “The arranged marriage was not my idea, and your mother told me she checked with you first. I had no idea you were so unhappy with it. If I had known, I never would have suggested it. I may be a king, Clarke, but I’m not a tyrant, and your father was a long-time friend of mine; I like to think I raised you the way he would have wished, but I know I’m never going to be half the man he was. You’re an adult, Clarke, and you have been for a few years – you can marry who you wish and I swear I won’t try and stop you.” He glanced up to meet Bellamy’s eye, “Even if it’s a pirate.”

Clarke flushed bright pink, “Oh, it’s not- we’re not- I don’t…”

But King Marcus was already gone. 

“You okay?” Bellamy asked, lips pressed against the shell of her ear. 

“I will be, once I’ve _murdered my mother,”_ she hissed, moving to launch herself at the queen, and Bellamy caught her around the waist and spun her, making it look intentional. 

“I’m all for that, Princess, but maybe not in front of an entire capitol full of her subjects, hm?” He kissed behind her ear and she melted back into his arms. 

She twisted to face him, her arms looping around his neck. “You’re right. But I can definitely _embarrass her_ in front of her subjects.”

“Is that all I am to you?” He teased. “A puppet to upset your parents?”

“Obviously,” she said, and then she was kissing him and the crowd was screaming and he could hear Murphy’s laugh, and Abby’s horrified gasp, and everything felt exactly right.

* * *

* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  


**One Year Later:**

When _The Chimera’s Revenge_ arrived at port, people’s heads turned, they always had. She was a beautiful ship. This time, however, the people’s eyes were on the procession of royals waiting by the dock, the king and queen with their most loyal advisors and guards, and the girl in the dark red dress and the long golden hair, smiling up at the pirate flag that waved above her. 

Bellamy was the first to alight from the ship, and he barely had a chance to shake off his sea-legs before the woman was a blur as she sprinted towards him, nearly knocking him over with the force of her embrace. He stumbled a little, getting his bearings before he threw his arms around her, lifting her from the wooden slats to keep her as close as possible. 

Wells wandered after her a lot more carefully and sporting two big suitcases, presumably filled with their travel belongings. 

“Pick-up for two?” Murphy yelled from somewhere up in the sails, and Clarke laughed into Bellamy’s shoulder. 

“I missed you,” she breathed. 

“I missed you too, Princess,” he kissed her hair, “so much.”

“It’s been nearly a year, Bellamy. You haven’t visited.” She knew why he hadn't, why he had to stay away. After they kissed in front of the entire capitol, Abby had banished him from Arkadia, and it wasn't until Clarke wrote to him a month earlier saying she'd pleaded his case with the king for a Christmas amnesty that he was allowed back. He hadn't visited until then for fear of being arrested again, but it still distressed her, and he felt her absence as keenly as she felt his.

“I wrote to you,” he said softly, lowering her to the ground. 

She leaned back to see him properly, but she didn’t take her hands off his shoulders, not for a second. “I know. I got them all.”

“I keep yours in my desk, where that photo of Octavia used to be. Underneath the tiara you left behind last Christmas.”

“How was I to know we’d be taking a different ship home? Besides, I knew it was safe in your room. You may be a pirate, but you’re nothing if not principled.” Her lips quirked up and he wanted nothing more than to kiss them, but after Abby’s extreme reaction the last time, he was in no hurry to repeat that performance, even if Clarke promised Abby no longer hated him. He resolved to do it later. 

“Hurry up!” Raven yelled, “We’re losing daylight here!”

“Are you trying to tell me you can’t navigate in the dark, Reyes?” Clarke called back, and Raven snorted. Evidently, Bellamy wasn’t the only person on the ship Clarke had been writing to. In fact, he’d seen quite a few people sporting letters with the Royal Arkadian Seal on them.

Wells clambered past them and onto the deck, clapping Bellamy on the back as he went. He offered a hand to Clarke, but she refused it in favour of Bellamy’s strong arm around her waist as they returned to the ship. 

“Good to have you aboard, Wells,” Bellamy said, shaking the other man’s hand. 

Wells jerked his head towards the dock, “I was worried my father wouldn’t let me, even if it’s only for a week. But I convinced him it’s the only way to protect Clarke from the big bad pirates. Like you wouldn’t throw yourself at Clarke’s feet just to stop her tripping on a loose nail.”

“I resent that implication,” he retorted half-heartedly, and Wells only laughed as Raven offered to show him where he would be sleeping.

Bellamy glanced behind them at the crowd; at Abby, with a begrudging smile on her face, at Jaha, who looked worried to be sending his son and goddaughter off on a pirate ship, and at King Marcus, who simply winked at him. He grinned back. 

They pulled away from the pier and Clarke waved at her family, beaming widely as the crowd dissipated until it was only Marcus, Abby and Jaha waving them off as they faded from view over the horizon. Clarke was hugged by nearly every crewmember on the ship, and by the time she found Bellamy, leaning on the railing in front of his office, watching over his ship, they were surrounded by nothing but ocean on all sides. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the exercise and the cold winds, and she was still smiling wider than he’d ever seen her – not a hint of sadness. 

“Wow, you’re in high demand. Should I be jealous?” Bellamy asked, smiling at her as she tucked herself into his side. 

“Always,” she quipped back, and he chuckled, putting an arm around her waist to draw her closer. 

He gestured out at the sea, “Where to next, Princess?”

She looked out over the endless ocean, and her eyes reflected it eternally back. He was definitely in love with her. 

The pensive curve between her eyebrows became playful. “Well, you didn’t get me a Christmas present last year.”

“Neither did you!” 

“I saved your life,” she reminded him, and he leaned closer, nuzzling at her cheek. 

“I suppose you did.” She slipped her hand beneath his shirt, her cold fingers on his stomach, and he tensed, holding in a moan as she warmed them against his skin. “Alright then, what do you want for Christmas?”

Her gaze turned wicked and he felt it tug at something in his gut, made him want her even more. “I heard from someone once that there’s a queen in Azgeda who needs putting in her place. Filthy rich and stone-cold evil. I think I fancy a trip to Azgeda for Christmas.”

“Really now?” God, he really, _really,_ wanted to kiss her. “I know a pirate who used to be a prince in Azgeda. He might like this plan of yours; I think I’ll send him a letter.”

“Good idea. But first, I think we should go home. I’ve missed Octavia and the children. They write to me too, y’know.”

“I know.”

“And maybe on the way back, we can stop by Sherwood. I’ve always wanted to meet Robin Hood.”

He groaned. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” she kissed his cheek, her slightly chapped lips still unnervingly soft against his skin. 

“Raven, set a course for home!” He called out, already dragging Clarke back towards his office, “I’ve got to give the princess her Christmas present, so no-one should disturb us for a while.”

“Gross!” Raven, Wells, Murphy and Miller said in unison. 

He kicked the door closed behind them, unwilling to stop touching her as he crowded her into his office and towards his desk. 

“Merry–”

She cut him off by tackling him, her lips on his and her arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. He stumbled a little and she pushed him down into his office chair – the very one he’d first seen her sitting in – and climbing into his lap, straddling him. 

“I missed you so much,” she whispered. 

“God, me too,” he started raining kisses down on her cheeks, her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, and she hummed happily. 

“It’s not gonna be like this all the time, is it? I’m not just going to see you every Christmas, right? I don’t think I could deal with not seeing you all year round. Not after this year. It’s been _awful_ without you.”

He tutted as he sat back, brushing her hair from her eyes. _“Dramatic_ Princess.”

She surveyed him sceptically. “It hasn’t been awful for you?”

He lasted barely a second before he caved, “Yeah, it has, I’ve been miserable. Raven said the only times she saw me smile were when I was at home or when one of your letters arrived.” 

“Thank god we don’t have to send letters anymore.”

“Well, actually, that’s your present,” he said sheepishly, handing her a letter. 

She pretended to be disappointed as she tore into the envelope and unfolded the paper within, but her eyes gave her away as they filled with tears. 

“Is this real?”

“It’s real,” he grinned. “I have the king’s permission to travel as I please and for me to always have sanctuary in Arkadia. I guess Marcus has a soft spot for pirates. Or maybe just for you.”

Her features softened and she sniffled, wiping the happy tears from her cheeks. “You can visit as often as you like?”

“Turn it over,” he suggested, and she flipped the page, scanning down it until she reached the important bit at the bottom. 

_“…and the princess has the king’s blessing to travel on The Chimera’s Revenge as long as she sees fit, provided she does not get caught participating in illicit activities. Don’t get caught, Clarke.”_ She blinked, eyes wide. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

He nodded, and she laughed disbelievingly and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. He didn’t waste any time capturing her lips with his own, and the letter tumbled from her fingers as she kissed him in a way that was definitely not becoming of a princess. He slowed them down a little so he could savour it, until they were completely still but for the rising and falling of their chests. He enjoyed the weight of her in his lap and his nose warmed by the flush of her cheek; just holding her close. 

“Don’t you want _your_ present?” She asked suggestively. 

“I just want you here,” he murmured, “that’s enough for me.”

“You’re a sap, for a pirate.”

“You’re a rebel, for a princess.”

“What a ridiculous pair we are,” she agreed.

“As long as you’re admitting we’re a pair,” he teased. 

She rolled her eyes and batted his shoulder gently. “I love you, you idiot.”

“Thank god, because I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you,” he said, and surged up to kiss her again. He could hear Murphy banging on the door and yelling something, and the sensation of the ship rocking beneath them, but all he cared about was Clarke’s contented smile against his own. 

“Merry Christmas, Princess,” he murmured, when he could find the breath to say it.

“Merry Christmas, Pirate.”

 _“And a Yo Ho Ho,”_ Murphy yelled through the doors, making them both break apart from laughing so hard.

**Author's Note:**

> So, whaddya think? 
> 
> Christmassy enough?!?!
> 
> Anyway, happy Bellarke Secret Santa to [@jordanjaspermcgreen](jordanjaspermcgreen.tumblr.com) Hope you like it babe!
> 
> All my love <3 < 3<3


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